


elucubro

by gildedhorns



Category: Little Witch Academia
Genre: F/F, First Time, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Miscommunication, lots of lesbian sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 06:03:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11457501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gildedhorns/pseuds/gildedhorns
Summary: It's the end of term, and Croix is trying to study for her final exams.  Chariot isn't exactly helping.(50% wholesome 50% horny 50% character study.  Croix struggles with some insecurities and Chariot tries to get closer to her best friend.)





	elucubro

"I don’t think you’re studying."

Croix looks up from the heavy tome and glances over at her friend in the bunk across from her.  Her lips quirk up in a small smile.

“How can I when I’m being given the performance of a lifetime?”

Chariot du Nord, Luna Nova’s resident troublemaker and self-taught acrobat had commandeered one of the bunk beds in Croix’s room into a makeshift balance beam and was currently standing at the top of it, grinning broadly down at her friend.

“You flatterer!”  Chariot covers her mouth with mock bashfulness, “I can’t mess up with all these expectations on me now.”

One eye on her textbook, Croix reaches out vaguely in Chariot’s general direction, and wiggles her fingers, “I’m channeling my studying energy into you, so you’d better make it worth it!”

“Oh, I can feel it!  I can feel it!” The muscles in Chariot’s arms pop with feigned exertion as she mimes pulling a heavy weight towards herself.  Stumbling on the bar, she lurches backwards, clutching her chest dramatically, “Wait, Croix, it’s too strong! You need to stop!”  She teeters on the edge of the bar and looks like she’s about to tumble over, but transitions midway through her fall into a perfect cartwheel; feet arcing through the air and brushing the ceiling before landing perfectly upright.  Beaming, she throws her hands up in the air for applause.

“Ta-da!”

Croix claps slowly, releasing a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.  She leans back into the pillow resting between her and the wall, “Bravo.  But next time, try doing that somewhere where there’s more space.  I think you might be leaving marks on the ceiling.” ~~~~

Chariot shakes her head, “Nuh uh.  Versatility is _key_.”  She emphasizes the word with a flourish of her wand, and it flies out of her hand, landing on the floor.  “What if I’m in a really small venue?  What if the cupboard-sprites book me for a night?  I couldn’t let them down just because of a lack of close quarters acrobatics knowledge on my part.”

 “I don’t think that would be acrobatics anymore.  Maybe look into contortionism.”

“I will!”

Chariot looks at her with such confidence that Croix can’t help but smile as she turns back to her studies.

It was well past midnight at Luna Nova and the sounds that were usually commonplace in the upper year dormitories were all but absent.  The telltale creak of floorboards from students sneaking in after hours to the hushed bursts of laughter that would leak through the walls from adjacent rooms had all but vanished as the end of term neared.  Rooms as colourful as their individual occupants now stood empty.  Most students had already finished their finals, packed up their bags, and gone home for the summer.

All those, of course, save for the ones who were still studying for their final exams.  Or were trying to at least.

With a yelp and an earthshaking _thump_ that rattles Croix’s bedframe, Chariot slips, falling two beds down onto the floor with a crash.  There’s a beat of silence before the redhead groans.

“Ouchhhhhh.”

“Break anything?”

“Only my dignity.”

“Nothing you haven’t broken before.”

Chariot moans and rolls over on the floor woefully, looking up at Croix from under her armpit.

“Croix, help me uppppp.”

 “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were trying to distract me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Chariot says, putting on her best puppy dog impression and stretching both of her arms out towards Croix imploringly, “now put that down and help me?”

Croix jots down another note in her library book, barely sparing Chariot a glance, “You’re fine.” Chariot’s glowing smile drops clean off her face.

Brokenheartedly her arms slump to the ground and she rolls over, lying with her face flat to the floor. _“Betrayed by her best friend.”_

“I’m sorry?”

“I _said_ , _betrayed_ by her _best_ \- uWAH!”

With a yelp Chariot finds herself yanked up in mid-air, levitating towards the opposite side of the room by some invisible force. “No no no no _Croix_!”  Croix smirks, and waves her wand towards her roommate’s bunk.  Arms flailing, Chariot shrieks as the blankets on the bed uncoil themselves like snakes and lunge at her, wrapping her up all the way to her ears and swaddling her like a floral-print mummy.  With a soft plunk and a loud groan she’s deposited on her back in the middle of the mattress like an inelegant dinner centrepiece.

“ _Croooooooix_.”

“Now you can’t hurt yourself,” Croix retracts her wand, pocketing it, “and as an added bonus, you won’t be bothering me anymore.  I plan on acing this course.”

 “Advanced Inorganic Animation?”  Chariot cranes her neck sideways catching the title of Croix’s book, grunting in the grip of the blanket, “Are you sure you aren’t already an expert on that?”

“A final review never hurt anyone.”

Chariot raises her eyebrows, “That’s what you said _last_ semester.”

At that, Croix visibly wilts, “Please don’t remind me.” Waking up halfway through an exam with her classmates ogling her and the invigilator prodding her prone body with the tip of her wand was something she was eager to forget.

“Those who forget history…”

 “Are doomed to repeat it,” Croix finishes, “which I _won’t_ be doing since I’m eating now.  So there’s nothing to worry about.”

Chariot wiggles her arms free, and tugs at the wrappings around her legs, glancing at the overflowing garbage bin in the corner of the room, “That’s maybe… thirty percent food at most.”

“Thirty percent more than last year.”

Chariot sighs, exasperated, “Well, you still need sleep too.  You’re not a machine.”

“Not if I can help it.”

Chariot groans, giving up for a moment.  Nowhere else to go, she looks around the bed, eyes landing on a collage of pictures pinned up on the wall beside her.  Most of them are photos, polaroids, mixed in with some magazine clippings. There are a couple of family photos here and there, but the majority of them were taken recently, at Luna Nova.  A couple of girls smile down at her from their broomsticks, arms outstretched and waving, and in another, a group of girls grin at her proudly, a trophy cradled in their arms.  The one thing the photos have in common is that they all feature two girls: one with brown hair and one with dirty blonde.  Croix doesn’t appear in any of them.  Chariot hums, glancing away from the wall to the half packed luggage on the desk adjacent to her, “Where’s Angeline, anyways?”

Croix shrugs, “At the library.  I think.”

Chariot hums again, thoughtfully.

Ever since Croix’s third roommate had gone home for the summer, Chariot had taken to sneaking in and spending the night with her.  This also, strangely enough, coincided with Croix’s second roommate deciding to spend all nighters in the library study hall.

Croix chews on the tip of her pen thoughtfully, reciting her study notes in her mind, when her train of thought is interrupted by a loud yawn from Chariot.  She glances up over the rim of her glasses, only to look away just as quickly, face warm.  Chariot was stretching, and her t-shirt had gotten caught up in the tangle of blankets, riding up over her chest and exposing her belly underneath.

There’d never been any physical discomfort between the two friends per se - one could argue the opposite with the frequency which one would see Chariot clinging to Croix on school grounds.  But over the past year or so Chariot’s displays of familiarity and intimacy had gone from being a comfort to something of an irritation.  Something that made Croix’s stomach twist.  More often than not she found herself shrugging off Chariot’s hands in the hallways, or shifting her chair over whenever they bumped shoulders eating in the mess hall.

She dismissed the dread she felt as nothing more than growing pains – signs of outgrowing immature mannerisms and childish habits.  Definitely not related to the fact that she’d come to realize she was enjoying Chariot’s company a bit _too_ much and most certainly not because of the looks she saw her classmates giving her over Chariot’s shoulders.

“Do you need me to take your temperature?”

Chariot’s voice snapped Croix out of her thoughts.  The other witch was sitting on the edge of the bed with her hands tucked under her chin and an ambiguous smile on her face.  The blanket, long since defeated, was lying in a pile in the corner.  With horror rising in her stomach Croix realizes she’d been starting.  She jerks her head down awkwardly, trying to find her spot on the page.  “No.  No, I need to study.”

“Alright.”

Croix knows for a fact there’s not a single malicious bone in Chariot’s body, but the tone of her voice sets her teeth on edge.  Chariot sits back on her haunches, with a determined glint in her eye that Croix knows no good can come out of.  She tries to immerse herself in her studies once more but the sudden mood that’s taken a hold of her is suffocating, settling over her shoulders like thick tar.  It gets stuck in her ears, turning things as sweet as Chariot’s tinkling laugher into something cruel and mocking.  She shakes her head, like she’s trying to rid herself of a fly buzzing around her ears.  She can feel the other witch’s eyes on her, along with the smirk she knows is on her face.

All of a sudden she’d like nothing more than for Chariot to leave.

Croix is able to get around three more minutes of study time in, before the other girl giggles conspiratorially from the other bed.  She doesn’t look up.

"Croix."

The older witch ignores her.

"Croix."

"Stop."

"Croix, look." her serious tone is interrupted by a fit of giggling and a stern clearing of her throat, "Croix."

" _What_."

Terse, Croix looks up from her book.  Chariot is splayed out on the too-small mattress, bony legs jutting out over the edge from under the covers.  She flips the corner of the blanket over, stroking the threadbare sheets underneath invitingly, and pitches her voice in a ridiculously low, sultry tone, "Time for bed, Croix."

Croix frowns and feels herself getting warm despite herself.  "Don't do that." She buries her nose in her book again, glowering.  Chariot’s barely contained giggles leak over from the other side of the room, and over the edge of her cover, worming their way into her brain.

“Don't ignore me _ma chère_ …weren’t you taught not to keep a lady waiting?”

Chariot yelps in shock as a pillow is launched into her bunk, and she falls over, clutching it and laughing. "Oh!  Oh! A pillow won’t do!” She wipes her eyes on her the back of her hand, and tosses it on the floor, “I require - I require live human flesh!"  Chariot’s crone-like impression of Professor Lukić dissolves along with her composure as she breaks down into a fit of laughter, missing the storm cloud brewing over Croix’s head and the way her knuckles go white around her book.

“Oh, don’t make me come over there!”

Croix is so fixated on her reading that she nearly leaps out her skin when she feels the mattress dip as Chariot clambers up over its side, grinning mischievously, blanket trailing behind her like a traveller’s cloak.   Croix’s heart drops clear through to her stomach and she gasps as Chariot crawls towards her.  She presses up flat against the wall, but Chariot fills every inch she lets go, hands at her feet, on her knees, pulling the book out of her hands -

"Crooooix-"

Too close, too close, too close – loose shirt is slipping off her shoulder and warm body is pressing up against her shrinking legs – _too close_ – her face is burning, ears ringing – _why is she smiling?_ – Chariot’s hand is outstretched, reaching for her glasses, and when her fingertips brush her cheek Croix snaps, ripping the book out of her hands, and yelling:

_"Get out Chariot!"_

Chariot startles backwards off the bed, as if touched with an electric shock.  The smile that was on her face had disappeared completely.

“Croix, I-”

"I need to study, _get out of my room!_ "

There’s a ragged harshness to her tone, and Chariot finally realizes there’s something she’s overstepped.  She clasps and unclasps her hands at her sides desperately, trying to find the right words.

“Croix-”

"You're always blundering about without thinking!" Her face is burning, and she can't meet Chariot's eyes.  "Just - leave me alone." She buries herself in her book again, curling her knees up against her chest, but her heart is beating too loudly to concentrate and the words on the page blur wetly in front of her.

_Fuck you fuck you fuck you stupid stupid **stupid**_

She clenches a fist in her hair and tries to slow down her breathing like she’s read online.  Four seconds in, four seconds out.  She exhales through her nose.

The sound of blood rushing through her ears has subsided slightly when the mattress dips down once again to accommodate a second weight on the bed.  She stares at the page she’s opened to and doesn't look up.

"Hey."

Chariot's voice is small.

Croix doesn’t budge.  She can’t even summon the willpower to at least pretend to move her eyes across the page to give off the impression that she's reading.

"Croix, I didn’t-"

"Please leave."

The anger that had been in her voice not moments ago was gone, replaced with an almost pleading tone.  She wishes the other witch would ignore the kind hearted impulses hardwired into her and spare her any more humiliation for the rest of the night.

But Chariot is Chariot, and she never gives in so easily.  She shakes her head, voice soft, "You don't want that." Croix’s stomach twists miserably.

She feels like a particularly unpleasant potions specimen pinned underneath a looking glass. Any slim chance that Chariot had somehow miraculously not noticed her blush or the intent behind the outburst had surely been dashed now; she was so close she could probably feel the heat radiating off her.  Croix doesn’t resist this time when Chariot gently pries the book from her hands and lays it in the bedsheet beside them.  Chariot takes her hand, and threads their fingers together, gently clasping them in between her own.

"Croix," Chariot's gaze is soft, "do you-?"

Croix blinks - she expected an apology, not whatever this was.  She glances down at their hands, then back to the expression on Chariot’s face.  Chariot's face is soft, and the hands clasped around her own are gentle.

She glances at her, then at their hands, then her again. 

"Do I?"

Chariot runs a thumb over their intertwined fingers and Croix feels a warmth bloom in her breast.

 "Oh."

Chariot smiles.  Embarrassment lodged in her chest melts away, replaced with something simple and new.  "Oh." She repeats again.

"I - I didn’t mean to yell.  I thought-"

"I know."

Sitting up, Croix unfolds her legs, and Chariot scoots forward into the space between them, entwining her legs around the other girl’s.  Chariot busies her fingers with the hem of Croix’s shirt, worrying her bottom lip.

"And I…I didn’t mean to make fun."

Croix shakes her head. "I know."  She clasps her hands loosely around Chariot's waist, closing the last couple of inches between them.   Chariot smiles.

The air is very warm this close to Chariot.  Not suffocating like before, but close, and comfortable.  Eyes that were avoidant were now flitting over each other freely, like curious touches alighted on one another’s skin.

Gradually, Croix feels herself leaning forward, as if she’s watching herself in a dream.  Their chests come together slowly, and then their noses, bumping into each other gently.  Slowly, Croix’s eyes flutter closed.  When it happens, there’s no strangeness, no fear, no twist in Croix’s gut - it feels like the culmination of four years of warmth and familiarity. The tip of Chariot’s nose presses into her cheek and she tilts her head forward, brushing Chariot’s lips with her own, before gently pressing them together.

Chariot sighs into the kiss and Croix can feel her eyelashes fluttering against her cheek.  They stay like that for a while, just breathing, before softly pressing their lips together again.

When Croix opens her eyes, Chariot is looking at her with such fondness that she feels her heart might melt.  She’s struck with the urge to kiss the other girl again, so she does, a single press to the side of her mouth.  Without taking her eyes off her, Chariot reaches up and removes her glasses, setting them carefully on the side of the bed, and runs her fingers through her hair. The gentle trails her nails take send shivers down Croix’s spine and heat down deep into her gut.

"Does that feel good?"

Croix nods, pressing her face to Chariot’s jaw, and Chariot smiles, cupping the side of the other girl’s cheek and bringing their mouths together in a long kiss.  She continues combing with her other hand, letting Croix melt into her arms.

With every stroke, she’s able to coax small noises out of Croix; soft at first, then louder.  With slow deliberation Chariot presses a trail of kisses down Croix’s neck, and by the time she reaches her collar Croix is almost mindless.  As her tongue meets the pit of her throat Croix pushes away, gasping, mind buzzing with overstimulation.  Chariot leans back in her lap, but keeps her hands at Croix’s sides, giving the other witch some time to compose herself while still keeping her close.

When Croix cools down they settle back into their embrace, right where they left off.  Croix finds the bottom of her nightshirt, and blushes, fingers asking the question for her.

“Chariot…”

Chariot nods, and Croix swallows.  Button by button the nightshirt becomes undone and by the time Croix’s reached the swell of her breast her face is bright red and her hands are so unsteady the buttons slip beneath her fingertips.  She practically sighs with relief as Chariot comes to her rescue, undoing the last two buttons for her.  Gingerly, Croix opens her shirt, and Chariot rolls it off her shoulders with a slow shrug.

Croix can’t help but moan.

 “Chariot…you’re…” the reverence in her voice chokes her off and Chariot looks away, quietly blushing.  Swallowing the lump in her throat, Croix shakes her head – she knows Chariot understands what she means, but having her hear those words was much more important than clinging to any remnants of her insecurity.  She takes Chariot’s hand, pulling her close.

“You’re beautiful.”

Chariot’s entire face crumples and for a heart wrenching moment Croix is scared she’s done something wrong.  But any disquiet is instantly banished as the other girl lunges into her with a wail, squeezing her within an inch of her life.

“ _Thank you!_ ”

Her voice is muffled in her shoulder, and Croix’s arms waver in midair before coming around her back, patting her reassuringly.

After a moment Chariot lets go, and oxygen floods Croix’s lungs once again. There’s a short mumbled exchange of “Sorry!!” “It’s fine, it’s fine” and they both look away, before blushingly meeting each other’s eyes again.  With a flutter of amusement Croix sees there’s an imprint on Chariot’s bare breast where she’d pressed herself into the folds of her shirt.  Absentmindedly she reaches forward, caressing the flesh there as if to smooth the marks out.  Chariot shivers, and Croix’s breath catches as she glances up at her.  Not taking her eye off the other girl, she trails her fingers down around the curve of her breast and up along her rib.  Slowly, Chariot sits up on her knees until Croix’s face is level with her chest, and with a small grin Croix creeps her hands around under the opening of her shirt, sliding them back and pulling her closer.  Chariot rests her arms on Croix’s head and shoulders, their weight heavy and encouraging. ~~~~

Chariot hums, unwinding, as Croix presses an open-mouthed kiss to her breast.  With slow deliberation Croix’s hands glide down over her sides, taking time to familiarize herself with every inch of the other girl’s body.  As she comes around just below her ribs, Croix pauses, as the texture under her fingers changes.  She frowns, and looks down at its source – a jagged streak of scar tissue she recognizes from a spill Chariot took from her broom, years ago.  She rubs at it, irritated, watching it wrinkle under her thumb.

“Please be more careful.”

Chariot hums distractedly and Croix shakes her head; she’d lecture her about her recklessness later, but for now she’ll let it go.  She kisses the scar, then presses her face into the other girl’s chest, relishing in the closeness of their bodies.  Chariot’s ribs expand underneath her in a sigh, and her eyelids flutter shut.  Slowly, she begins rocking them back and forth, cradling Croix to her breast, and curling her fingers loosely in her lavender hair.  A slow warmth starts to pool between Croix’s legs and she nuzzles into Chariot, humming.  With sly satisfaction, she startles a lazy jump out of Chariot’s hips as she puts her lips around her nipple and sucks.  Chariot’s breathing gets heavier, and she weighs down on Croix’s shoulders, ready for more.  Croix slides her hands downwards, hesitating momentarily as Chariot’s abs tense briefly beneath her, before continuing on, ghosting over her belly and even further down below.  She hesitates again, looking for any signs of disquiet, but Chariot only paws at her eagerly.

With the flat of her tongue Croix licks a hot stripe over her belly, eliciting a shaky moan from above her.  Palm open, she presses flat, slipping past her waistband, and down into the other girl’s boxers.  She creeps down as far as she can until skin turns to slick heat and Chariot's grip in her hair trembles and tightens.

"Oh," the other girl’s eyes were raised skyward, hips lifting in the air, "Oh Croix."  Croix’s eyes flutter against her abdomen as she swirls her fingers.  If the heat pooling between her legs was anything to go by she’s probably just as wet as Chariot is now.  Gradually, she presses deeper in her ministrations, first in an S shape and then followed by a slow C.  Chariot’s forehead drops to her shoulder and she shudders, the sound sending a thrill down into Croix’s gut.  Unconsciously, she squeezes her thighs together, shifting on her knees.   One of Chariot’s hands finds her way down to her hip and Croix slides her fingers into her’s, holding her there.

When Chariot’s rhythm wavers, hips trembling on her fingertips, Croix helps keep her pace, hand steady on her waist.  Chariot leans forward, bracing her arms on the wall behind them and grinds down on Croix wantonly. 

"We're almost there," Croix whispers, "almost there."  Chariot nods dully, and trembles with exertion, dripping down Croix’s wrist.

After a few soundless strokes and a soft cry, Chariot comes, rocking into Croix’s hand.  Her grip on the wall slackens and, one-handed, Croix guides her to the bed.  Together they gently collapse into a pile of tangled limbs and bedsheets.

They stay like that for a while in the dark, just lying there and panting, arms draped around each other in a clumsy, tired embrace.  Croix closes her eyes, just listening to the sound of their breaths going in and out of sync, and the gentle rise and fall of Chariot’s chest against her’s.  There’s something comforting in the quietude of the moment; the casual feeling of skin on bare skin with no particular intent or direction. 

After a short while, she opens her eyes to find Chariot looking up at her, a soft smile playing around her lips.  She shifts her legs underneath her’s, and presses the pads of her feet up against Croix’s shins, wiggling them playfully. Croix smiles and moves over so their noses are nearly bumping.  She clears her throat.

"Was that…good?"

Chariot laughs, "Very good. Top of the class."

Croix looks away, smiling deviously, "I'm glad all that studying paid off."

"Auuuuuuuuuugh, I take it back."

There's a lull in the moment after their laughter dies down, and they just lie there in silence, soaking in each other's company.  Croix stirs slightly, glancing down.

"Hey, Chariot."

"Hm?"

"Can I have my hand back?"

"Oh!  Oh, I'm sorry."

Lifting herself up, Chariot takes Croix's hand out her briefs.  Before the other girl can take it back, Chariot presses a kiss to her knuckles.

"Love you."

Chariot giggles again, this time at Croix's blushing smile, and almost doubles over at her consequent attempt at burying it in the mattress.  But even Croix can't be bothered to hide herself for long, and peeks back up at her, grinning.  Chariot burrows into the mattress next to her, shoulders shaking with laughter, wrapping her arms around her in a hug.  Not long after, Croix joins in, laughter resonating deep inside her chest.  Chariot’s cheeks are red from smiling and Croix feels as if her heart might swell to burst.  She feels so light she could be floating.

If she blinks, Croix feels as though she might find herself in another time and place, lying outside under the night sky in the tall grass, shoulder to shoulder with Chariot.  Her impromptu magic shows would always end in stargazing sessions, and the two witches would lie there for hours, robes covered in brambles and twigs, breathless with laughter, pointing out constellations in the sky; some old, some new, some of their own creation.

That same buoyancy swells in her chest now – though this time her cheeks are red with warmth, not from the cold night air, and she doesn’t flinch when Chariot’s hand finds its way into her own.

She opens her eyes and the stars above her disappear, along with the distant echoes of laughter.  The room is quiet and Chariot’s eyes are drooping shut, arms limp and heavy.

Croix disentangles herself briefly to grab the throw-over piled up by their feet.  She pushes her papers aside, onto the floor, and grabs the blanket, pulling it over Chariot's body.  With a sniffle, Chariot stirs awake, scrunching her face up impishly.

“Go back to sleep.” Croix whispers but Chariot grunts and bats her hand away as Croix tries to tuck her in.

"S'your turn."

Croix blushes.  "If you wanna sleep we don’t have to."

Chariot stops rubbing her eyes, and fixes Croix with a mock accusatory glare.

“You aren’t questioning my stamina, are you?"

Croix smiles wryly, eyes flicking over Chariot’s well defined shoulders, "I don't think I’ve ever been in a position to be able to."

Chariot grins, propping herself up on her elbow and before Croix can so much as blink, Chariot’s rolled over on top of her, planting her on her back.  Croix blushes.

“Oh.”

“My second wind,” Chariot says, winking down at her, “You think too little of me.”  What’s left of Croix’s composure crumbles as Chariot’s hips settle down on top of her, their weight reminding her of her own wetness just beneath them.  Her excitement must show on her face because Chariot gives a pleased smile, and a small squeeze of her thighs.  She leans down for a kiss then, but laughs and pulls back up with an apology as a sputtering Croix gets a face full of long red hair.

“Maybe it’s time to get it cut.”

“No, no, it’s perfect like this.”

Croix tucks Chariot’s hair back behind her ear, tracing her fingertips along her cheek on the way back.  Humming happily, Chariot turns into her palm, and leans the rest of the way in, meeting Croix halfway in a kiss.  Wrapping her arms around her, Croix pulls them both back into the pillow, venturing a tongue between the redhead’s lips.  Bracing her arms on the mattress, Chariot slowly starts grinding down on Croix, rubbing herself through the other girl’s sweatpants.  Croix chokes out a moan, involuntarily humping back into Chariot.

Chariot doesn’t stop until Croix is properly flushed and needy, and she’s thoroughly soaked through once more.  Gingerly, she shifts Croix’s legs apart, nudging them open with her knees.  Croix whines when Chariot breaks off the kiss but instantly clams up as Chariot climbs backwards off of her and settles down between her legs, hands on her thighs.  Chariot looks up at Croix, who’s looking over her own chest with such intensity it’s verging on comical.

Slipping her fingers in her waistband, Chariot shimmies off Croix’s sweatpants, manoeuvring them down and underneath her.  Once they're around her ankles, Croix kicks them off and onto the floor, where they join the meticulously written study notes she’d been going over earlier.  Chariot traces the light trail of hair down Croix’s stomach, and once she reaches her mound, she cups the other girl through the fabric, giving her the lightest of squeezes.

"Oh, _fuck_."  Croix clamps her thighs around Chariot’s hips and claps a hand to her mouth.  Chariot purses her lips to hide her smile, and Croix lowers her hand, blushing.  At long last, Chariot makes her way once more to Croix’s belly before slowly slipping past her waistband and curling her fingers into the slick heat below. There’s a whispered gasp from the both of them.

"Oh, Croix…"

Over the curve of her chest, Croix’s eyes are dark and unfocused; heated gaze set on the outline of Chariot’s fingers.  She swallows, looking for the right words.

"I’m a bit…excited."

 Chariot laughs, "Only a _little_ bit."

"Just a little."

Chariot looks down in her lap, rubbing the slick of her fingers together and Croix whimpers.

"Oh- " Chariot’s hands freeze, and she glances up at the other girl, just realizing how sensitive she was in this position, "was that-"

"It's fine!"

"Do you want me to-"

"Just keep...keep..." Croix's hands go slack in the bedsheets and her head lolls back as Chariot massages into her with the full flat of her palm.

" _Chariot_."

Chariot brushes past her clit, and Croix whimpers.  One hand splayed over her belly to steady her, Chariot dips down into her core, sliding her thumb all the way up back to her clit and circling it, drawing a stuttering full body shudder from Croix.  When Croix is practically undone, Chariot parts her with her thumb, rubbing into her folds with little circles.

“F-fuck.  Oh, fuck.” 

Croix’s head falls back, knuckles white in the bedsheets.  She loves it.  She really does.  For all the late nights, legs tucked flat under the covers, fingers curled into her underwear; for all her solitary fantasies, she could never imagine something as simple and wonderful as Chariot's hands. ~~~~

Which is why she desperately needs a breather.

A hot droplet of sweat rolls down her neck, and she blinks dazedly, craning her head up.

"Um, Chariot-"

But Chariot smiles up at her and Croix’s tongue gets stuck in her throat.  She swallows and smiles back, but as soon as Chariot looks away, her face falls.  She wants this – she should be enjoying it.  Rolling her hips, Croix tries to ride out the intensity of what she’s feeling, but it proves too much for her.  Her head drops back to the pillow and she tries to clear her thoughts, squeezing her legs around Chariot’s waist, trying to even out the tension building inside her body.  _Too soon…too soon_. 

She buries her face in her hands, and presses her palms into her eyelids, knowing she won’t last much longer.  She thinks she hears Chariot beginning to say something, but it’s lost in the curl of her fingers as the pressure building up in Croix comes to a head and she whites out, stuttering into Chariot's palm.

She couldn’t have been gone for more than a few seconds, but when she opens her eyes, Chariot is peering at her, hand perched uncertainly on her knee.

"Did I...?"

"I – I’m – can we keep going?  I didn't mean… I’m sorry.  Just not so fast."

She bites her lip miserably.  She doesn’t realize her hands are shaking until Chariot sits down beside her and pulls them away from her face, taking them into her own.  Croix’s shoulders slump and she leans into her, letting Chariot pull her into a one-armed hug.

 “Tell me next time, ok?”

Croix nods, pulling her closer and Chariot rubs the small of her back, leaning her head up against her’s.  She’s vaguely aware she can smell herself on the other girl’s fingers and her lips quiver, smiling at the strange novelty.  When the tremors have stopped, and Chariot's hand has gone still, Croix opens her eyes again. Chariot shifts minutely against her. 

“You need to talk more.”

“…I talk all the time.”

“Not about what’s bothering you.  Not to me.”

Croix bites her lip, “I didn’t want to… ruin anything.”

“Ruin what?”  Chariot frowns, “Croix, this is for you…”

“I know, I just…” Croix shakes her head, “Can we keep going?”

Chariot looks at her, then nods, "Slower?"

"Slower."

Wiping her eyes, Croix sits up, and Chariot pulls her up by her waist and into her arms, kissing her.  Croix adjusts herself on her lap, sitting back on her haunches, and links her fingers behind the other girl’s back.

Chariot nuzzles into the other witch, pressing her nose to her neck but pauses when she doesn't get a reaction.  "Hey," Chariot looks sideways at Croix, but the other girl turns away, avoiding her eyes.  Chariot frowns.

Leaning forward, she pecks Croix's cheek, and then proceeds to pepper a trail of kisses all the way down into the collar of her shirt.  When Croix is unresponsive Chariot bites her lip worriedly, and after a quick moment of deliberation she takes a deep breath and plants a raspberry square on the crook of Croix's neck.  With an undignified yelp, Croix jumps in her lap, batting her away, but Chariot continues her assault, only letting up when Croix is breathless with laughter ("alright, alright!") and Chariot is satisfied that her smile won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.   Croix playfully bites the other girl's lip as punishment when Chariot leans down for a proper kiss but can't pretend to be mad for long and eventually, still grinning, opens her mouth properly for the other girl.

When they start again, Chariot is slow and deliberate.

Taking her hips in her hands, Chariot slides down her belly once more, retracing the path down between her legs.  Croix thinks she might lose herself again when Chariot's fingers slip inside of her, but this time she stays with her, clinging to the other girl like a lifeline.

Chariot hitches Croix up gently in her lap as she works, and she feels herself starting to get all warm again.  She lays her cheek down in the crook of Chariot’s shoulder, tracing her fingers in patterns on her back, as Chariot’s fingers swirl lazily inside of her.  Her breath hitches when Chariot finds her clit again, and she hears a quiet voice in her ear.

"Just stay with me."

Croix nods, relaxing her grip.  Chariot can feel that she’s trying her best, but her posture’s still all pointed and stiff so she kisses her neck and shoulders, slow and wet, until she can’t feel any tension in them any longer.  Moaning, Croix rocks into her fingers, but stops, confused, after she realizes Chariot’s stopped moving them.  When she doesn’t start up again, Croix frowns, grinding impatiently.

"Ah… Chariot…can you…”

"Hmm?" Chariot innocently presses a kiss to the crook of her neck, "You said to slow down."

She sucks her neck lightly, and Croix moans, throbbing in her lap.  She rolls forward into Chariot to get some friction, but Chariot pulls away, denying her. Croix whines, nearly tearing up.

"Slow down, n-not stop"

"Oh," Chariot raises her eyebrows, pressing her teeth against her jugular, "like this?"

She feels Chariot grinning into her neck, and feels her hand tightening around her waist, and – oh – she _definitely_ feels her curling her fingers. "A-ah," Croix’s legs fall open, wet and pliant.  She slumps into Chariot breathlessly.  "Yes, like that..."

“Hm, I dunno." She slides her fingers out, wet and hot, and traces small circles in the cloth of Croix’s underwear, right between her lips.  “Maybe I should stay out here.”

"Chariot please..." Croix whines.  She feels like she’s melting, all hot and slick on Chariot’s fingers.  She needs Chariot inside her. “Please…”

"Are you relaxing?" The teasing tone in her voice is gone, and she’s stopped moving again.  Croix realizes she’s waiting for an answer and she nods, letting herself go, and opening herself up.  Satisfied, Chariot slips into her underwear once again, slow and rough.  Croix loses her grip on her back, and she grasps at her, boneless.  From her toes, up, she feels like she’s being filled up with something hot – she’s buzzing, and she’s warm all over – she needs more.

"A-Ah.  Yes- "

Chariot presses her spare hand into Croix’s, twining her sticky fingers clumsily between her own.

"Are you with me?”

Croix hums, only half paying attention.  Her body feels different – all warm and heavy.  She curls her fingers in Chariot’s hand, rocking into her.

 “Yes.”

Chariot smiles.

This time around, she barely has to move her fingers.

There’s none of the sharp intensity of before - no overstimulation, no tension - just a pleasant overflow spreading to the tips of her fingers and toes.  She’s halfway aware of Chariot slipping her fingers out and lowering her onto the mattress below, but she’s too blissed out to react.

When she opens her eyes, a blanket is draped over the both of them, and Chariot is curled up beside her, looking at her contentedly from across their shared pillow.  Croix shifts herself over and Chariot pulls her in close, shimmying their legs together, and tucking her head against her chest so they’re both comfortably entangled.   Her thighs feel slick, and she’s probably sticking to Chariot, but she can’t bring herself to care.  Chariot yawns, settling closer in her arms.  Croix's eyes are heavy, so she slowly lets them fall shut.

She’s about to drift off to sleep when she hears a half-lucid snort just above her,

"Croix! Your exam."

Croix smiles, eyes still closed.

"I think I’ll manage."

There’s a vague hum of acknowledgement, and not five seconds later, a loud snore.

Croix spends the next five minutes listening to the steady rise and fall of Chariot’s chest.  In another five she falls asleep.

 

* * *

 

They both arrive at the exam twenty minutes late, skittering to a halt outside the lecture hall.  Chariot waves at an irritated Professor Lukić from the hallway (not being in her class the only thing saving her a thorough chewing out), and then at Croix, who grabs an exam booklet and takes a seat in one of the few remaining unoccupied chairs.  Despite her lateness, Croix still manages to finish early, and after dropping off her paper at the podium and shaking Lukić’s hand with uncharacteristic vigor, she skips off the stage and out the door, where Chariot’s waiting for her outside.

Before the heavy wooden door closes and Lukić snaps at them to get back to work, the students can hear the soft laughter and footsteps of the two witches as they run down the hallway into the sunlit courtyard below.

**Author's Note:**

> oh my GOD i feel like this is like....75% done and edited, but between school and work I don't think I'd ever get it 100% polished, so I might as well post it now! I'm mostly happy with this - I don't write too often, and I've always wanted to just write something porny, so this was pretty fun for me to tackle.
> 
> The main chunk of this fic was written back when episode 15 came out (SO LONG AGO.... GOD....) and thankfully, their characterizations (and our assumptions about them!) have stayed intact since then, god bless. I wasn't overly fond of some of chariot and croix's characterizations in episodes 22 and 23, so i kinda glossed over that in this fic too. I really love how much chemistry chariot and croix have, and how comfortable and warm they are together when they're not fighting, so i just wanted to showcase that part of their relationship. I also wanted to write a bit about Croix's insecurities (that weren't Claiomh Solais related), and have her work through her.....personality issues without making Chariot suffer for it (too much).
> 
> I love these sweet babies so much ;__;
> 
> also, im over at hug-me-ursula-sensei.tumblr.com if u wanna see more witch blogging!!


End file.
